Thursday, August 25, 2011

Mahalo for the break

Hawaii was lovely and hot and relaxing and filled with nothing resembling green juice. I didn't get a shitload of time to ruminate/meditate/discombobulate on my own about life like some kind of has-been actress shuffling through her mansion, but I did get to think. And I do feel a little shinier than before.

Does work eat up time now that I'm back? Yes, but I'm enjoying myself. Do I still struggle to get permission from my girls to go to the bathroom by myself. Balls. You know the answer to that. My life is what it is. Part my design, part the design of the beings I've chosen to surround me. And I like it.

I've got plans, though. Especially now that I'm back on the juice every morning, have lost the puka dog, beer and chocolate-covered macadamia nut weight, and feel this strange surge beneath me (don't get dirty). I feel partly responsible and partly propelled by something else that will smack me in the face sometime soon. I hope it isn't another cancer. It feels like a good thing, but sometimes I can't trust that feeling.

What I know for sure? I wrote an article for work this week about my own personal cancer fun fair and felt that delightful rocket ship of love again from my colleagues, which included a few new branches out to cancer cousins. No matter what awaits with leather gloves to wring my neck or drive me fast around the next corner, I know there's purpose out there.

New Carissa? Perhaps not. But I definitely said aloha to the spark of something I didn't have before.